


A Little String

by crestedhearts (orphan_account)



Series: Red Strings (Sephiroth) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:15:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crestedhearts
Summary: While everyone has some red string connecting them to their soulmate, you can't see yours--it is invisible to you, as is the identity of the person on the other side of it. You would never even know if you had found them until it was too late.But they could see it. Would know. Could choose.Would they tell you?
Relationships: Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII)/Reader
Series: Red Strings (Sephiroth) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757899
Comments: 18
Kudos: 115





	A Little String

EVERYONE KNEW THAT the SOLDIER's who protected them had unusual eyes; that they were a magnificent combination of blues and greens, mutated to contain the cat-like pupil that so few of them truly obtained. The strongest, they said, owned those fascinating pupils. That gave them the characteristics of a predatory cat, or some type of primal feline that stalked its prey by night.

You were not as lucky to have witnessed those eyes for yourself, only having the pleasure of others vague descriptions and small vocabulary to articulate their beauty to you. Eyes were the windows to the soul, so it was said, except yours were slammed shut and bolted, drawn with curtains so black that no light entered them.

Your friend, Aerith, had once said that your eyes gave off as much life as anyone else's, but that there was no awareness behind it, but an unguarded, unfiltered propensity for honesty. Anyone who knew body language could read you like a book, but no one could read your eyes, unable to tell if the emotions displayed there were real or just fake.

Unfortunately, Aerith was unable to visit you, more worried about one of her other friends who had gotten into some trouble. You couldn't recall his name, only that he was some important connection to her, someone she knew as family; you had met him, supposedly, once or twice, but were unaware of it. Aerith had said it had been a casual run in, usually with you holding giant boxes of tea leaves or tiny trips to her own home. It worried you that you couldn't sense him either time, his stride too quiet and his aura practically invisible.

But if Aerith was friends with him, knew him, he had to be good, right? You could only put your trust in her and move forward.

Even still, you had trouble managing your tea shop without her calm voice in your ear to help you deal with the judgemental stares. There were several of your regulars who you could guess smiled at you every time you delivered their brew to them, would defend you against anything, like Biggs and Wedge, or that one girl, Jesse, who had come with them and taken a shine to you.

You were thankful they didn't judge you for your blindness, or see it as a weakness. Before you had lost your sight to an awful disease that took your vision away during your younger years, you were a force to be reckoned with, a mercenary with enough blood on your hands to wash the city ten times over, none of it innocent blood. No one knew that, not that you would let them, but you still retained some of those reflexes, those habits and mannerisms, which was why, when the door to your shop opened as you were getting ready to close but you heard no footsteps, felt only a pressuring aura, you went on guard.

"May I help you?" You asked, turning to the direction of the door, a teacup held in your hand to seem demure. "It's almost closing time."

You had deteriorated into a gentle soul over the years, but that did not mean that you wouldn't defend yourself until the end. Your grip tightened on the cup ever so slightly.

"My apologies." The voice was smooth, neutral, and completely unexpected. It was male, had the confidence you expected to hear in someone with power, and sent the hairs on the back of your neck straight up. "I was supposed to meet someone here. It seems not."

"Who were you supposed to meet?" You inquired. He was far taller than you, speaking somewhere above your head, and his mere presence was enough to have your sixth sense ringing. "Maybe I can get them a message."

"No need. I'll see him soon enough." The man walked towards a small shelf seeded with little knickknacks. You had a hunch he was allowing you to hear his footsteps now, as a courtesy, noting your blindness the moment you had looked to the door. It was hard to ignore; gray irises and sclera were unusual even in Midgar.

There was a faint tinkling as he lifted one of the precious healing materia from a tiny bowl you had put it in for sale. No one had bought it yet. "What is this?"

"Healing materia," you explained patiently. "What's your name? I don't recall your voice at all."

"You wouldn't." You felt him turn to face you, but noticed he hadn't dropped the materia. "What would you like for this?"

"The materia?" You hummed, taking a seat on one of the benches you knew sat behind you. If you were going to die, might as well do it comfortably. "Well, a name and a general idea of what you do for a living would be nice… As a start."

He chuckled lightly, a nice sound, but you had an idea that it could have been a more ominous tune if he had wanted.

"Persistent, aren't you?" He pocketed the materia, the leather he wore--you could hear the creak--parting just so. "Very well. I am Sephiroth. You could call me a SOLDIER."

You envisioned green-blue eyes, overlaid with lashes of various colors, staring at you from across the room. His face was invisible to you, his body a mystery, but you could imagine. Could dream.

"It's nice to meet you, Sephiroth. I'm [Name]." You held out your hand politely, for him to shake. "I've never met a SOLDIER before."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently as he shook it. He wore leather gloves, smooth yet worn from use, and had strong, firm hands, the kind you would expect to feel on a SOLDIER.

"[Name]. How unique." Sephiroth pulled his hand from yours when the gesture lasted a few seconds longer than was polite. "I find myself hard pressed to believe that you have never met another SOLDIER before."

"It isn't all that far fetched." You shrugged, crossing your arms. He shifted his weight, caused the floorboards to creak. "I'm blind. If I had, I wouldn't have known unless they told me. And even then, most of your sort usually aren't keen on admitting to their jobs."

"As they should be. SOLDIERs require a measure of privacy." Sephiroth drew a little closer; you could feel his aura against your own, powerful and controlled. You felt pitifully weak against such power. "Your eyes… Is it a disease of some sort?"

"You could say that." More like a little test gone wrong for a manic scientist, but Sephiroth didn't need to know that. He was a stranger. "But I've heard that you have even stranger eyes."

"Perhaps I do."

"Do you? Have strange eyes?" You pressed. "Consider it your final payment for the materia."

He laughed, this time a very pleasant and genuine sound. You were surprised to find yourself pleased by it.

"It's an unfair trade for such a precious material. I'll do you one a little better." Sephiroth paused. "It requires a small use of my own materia, however."

"That's alright." Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head. "Will it hurt?"

"No." He took your hand in his. You instantly felt the cool, burning rush of materia, but not any kind you had ever used before. "It just tingles, that's all. And… there."

It was brief, lasted for only a few seconds--but you could see. Could make out the brilliant irises of his eyes, which you assumed were his, in a gorgeous blue and green hue, offset by beautiful pale white lashes. In the center, staring back at you with an amusement that seemed to only have a place in cats, was an iris that resembled that of a fascinated cat. Saw the long, draping strands of hair that fell over his back in a sleek wave. Saw his face, more handsome than you could have envisioned, almost feline and deadly in its shape.

And then it was gone, but it was imprinted in your mind as firmly as a brand.

"You have gorgeous eyes," you blurted, and an unusual thing happened; you felt his amusement through his aura. "Thank you. For that."

"No. I believe I must thank you, instead." Sephiroth rose to his feet, but kept a gentle grip on your wrist; tentative and almost kind.

"Whatever for?" You asked softly, confused. His aura grew steadily more amused… and softer, if you could have felt it more strongly. "I did nothing."

"You did everything." Sephiroth released your hand, made for the door. "Thank you, [Name]."

"But I don't…" The door opened and shut. You felt a feather in your hand, soft and impossibly sleek. "I don't understand."

Your world, if you could even tell, went just a little darker.

As if some light had been given to you, and then just as abruptly snatched away.

A little string.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning for this to have a sequel. Is anyone interested? I also have one in the works for Rufus as well. (: Please give me your feedback! I really appreciate it!


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